


He flies by his own wings

by LiveLoveDoritos



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Gen, Hospital, Italian Tony Stark, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Recovery, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, because his aunt is italian and he has lived with her for like six years so he probably knows it, flash is still a bit of a dick, peter also speaks italian, peter has a hard time coping what happened to him, steve/bucky if you squint - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-20
Updated: 2019-02-20
Packaged: 2019-10-31 21:34:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17857352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiveLoveDoritos/pseuds/LiveLoveDoritos
Summary: Tony breathes loudly through his nose, his eyes harden. “You look like crap, kiddo.” He then grabs his phone, opens the camera and hands it to Peter.His breath hitches when he sees himself. It doesn’t look like him. Peter is supposed to look happy, rosy cheeks, dimples from laughing. He doesn’t see that. Instead he sees a swollen, bruised face, bloodshot eyes, a cut under his left eye, a cut that runs over his eyebrow and a large portion of his forehead, a split lip and dried blood under his scarred nose.Peter heaves a sigh, voice foreign as he speaks, “this is horrible.” He bites his hurt lip. "How am I gonna face my classmates again? What am I gonna tell them what happened?” Tears sting his eyes, but he blinks and he blinks until they go away.“That you’ve been in a car accident.” Tony shrugs a little casual, maybe a bit too casual. He must’ve thought of everything already. “A driver wasn’t paying attention and hit you.”





	He flies by his own wings

**Author's Note:**

> currently being rewritten
> 
> tesoro- treasure

In hindsight he should’ve known this was a stupid idea. But Peter is Peter, so he went with it anyway. 

He pulled at his mask to make sure it was secured tightly, and then he stood up straight, looked The Green Goblin in the eyes and told him that he was not afraid. 

Green Goblin grinned and lunged. 

… 

He can’t breathe. 

Is the first thing he notices when he comes to. There are nearly half a dozen doctors swarming in and out of his vision. Four guys and two women. He’s lifted, moved and pushed on a gurney as they run through a hospital which walls are so white it’s almost dizzying and he can’t _breathe_ as he realizes that one of the people that move around him isn’t a doctor or a nurse but it’s Tony. He tries reaching for him but his arm doesn’t work.

 _Oh god_

So he screams. He screams so loud he can’t even hear himself. His stomach hurts, hurts so bad. He wants Tony to know his stomach hurts, but his tongue is too thick to speak and speech only comes out in strangled noises. 

“Shhhh,” Tony runs a hand over his hair. God, it’s probably a mess right now. Are they still running? Peter sees flashes of lights above him and Tony’s face is a little hazy. He thinks Tony’s mouth moves. He tries to focus. “It’s okay _Tesoro_ , it’s alright.” Tony says. Maybe he whispers. Screams?

Peter tries to get up, reach for his mentor. 

_Where’s May_

A doctor pushes him down again as they wheel him into some sort of trauma room, and oh god it hurts, it hurts so bad, and he can’t breathe so he gasps, struggles for air. 

Tony seems to notice, starts making a fuss. Somewhere he hears him yelling at the doctors, but Peter’s in so much pain. 

Doctors argue over him and then he sees a female doctor telling Tony something. Tony nods and swiftly walks over to Peter. “Don’t you worry, kiddo, don’t you worry kiddo.” The man repeats and repeats as he presses against the spider on Peter’s chest. The suit deflating in an instant. Tony helps the doctor take it off so his bare chest is exposed. 

In the far back of his mind Peter wonders why they’re undressing him, but that becomes very clear when Tony grabs hold of Peter’s fingers, one of the female doctors sedates him with something and it burns oh god it _burns_ and make an incision in his chest and pushes in a tube. Suddenly his airway is free so he finally breathes but he coughs and chokes and his body convulses from the pain but all the doctors do is push him back on the bed, out of pure frustration and enormous pain he starts crying. He hears himself making noises that are so mangled it’s painful to listen to. He sees Tony somewhere in his peripheral vision. His expression is hurt and sad and his eyes are more watery than normal as he’s being escorted out. 

Peter screams again, keeps screaming because oh god it hurts, hurts so bad. 

A doctor, he can’t see who, injects him with something that makes his stomach nauseous and his vision oozy. His eyelids start to droop but he struggles to keep them open. Peter fights, fights, _fights_ to stay awake because he’s Spider-Man and Spider-Man always fights, but even Spider-Man gets tired, so tired. He feels so broken that if he closes his eyes he might never wake up again. 

He closes them anyway. 

… 

When he wakes up, he still can’t move. 

 

The doctors are gone, he can’t see them and he can’t hear them. He can only see the white, spotless ceiling. 

_Hospital_

Oh yeah. He remembers now. He’s in the hospital. He’s lying in a bed with fluffy pillows. A tube in his throat, pumping oxygen into his bloodstream, right arm stuffed with IVs. His left arm is broken and completely covered in cast, which explains the pain and the inability to move. His left leg is bandaged and his right leg is bruised, battered, and overall horrifying to look at. Then he notices his stomach.  


Oh, god. 

_Nonononono_

His stomach is bandaged up, red blood stains the fabric.

He pinches his eyes shut, tries to forget about the stained bandage and that something went very, very wrong. He opens them, and pinches them shut again, tears hot on his face. 

Then, suddenly, Tony appears in front of his face. The sight of him is blurry, hazy. Foggy? 

Again, his mouth moves, but Peter doesn’t hear it, fingers come closer to stroke his cheek. He flinches against them. Fingers have hurt him. Mangled him and now he can’t move and he has never been hurt like this. 

These are not Green Goblin’s however, they’re from Tony Stark. The man who’s his mentor. Peter can see his face, can feel his breath gushing over his skin as the man talks, trying to calm him down. Not Green Goblin not Green Goblin not Green—

Something twitches in Peter’s mind. Flashes of hurt and pain so intense, so vivid, so _horrible_ lashes out, and renders him in panicked state. Eyes dart around the room, wildly. He can feel the water gushing out of them. 

A nurse appears in front of him and she sticks something in his arm . Not soon after that he calms down enough so he can drift back to sleep again. 

… 

The second time he wakes up he can hear his own heart monitor. It beeps loudly and strong. That’s a good sign right? He looks at it and sees numbers and things he doesn’t understand, but he sees the line going up and down without fail every second. That counts for something, doesn’t it? Also he’s happy to notice the tubes in his throat and chest are gone. 

He looks behind it, out of his bedroom window, it’s either dawn or it’s dusk. He doesn’t know and frankly doesn’t care. 

Next to his bed sits Tony in his chair, tapping away on his phone anxiously. 

Peter tries his sore throat to get Tony’s attention. He wants to reach up and feel his skin, sadly his arms don’t comply. He remembers claws that feel like iron folding around his throat, crushing his windpipe. His feet dangling above the ground. He’s strong, _too_ strong.

He shakes his head to get rid of the memory. 

Apparently Tony saw it, because he drops his phone next to the three empty pudding cups. His fingers reach out for Peter’s face. “Hey, kiddo!” he smiles warmly, well, he tries smiling. “how are you feeling?” 

Pain strikes Peter’s stomach so bad he can barely keep himself from lunging forward, so he tries using his sore throat a second time and finally manages to speak. “Hurt.” he croaks out. 

Tony’s eyes widen in fear. “Where does it hurt, _Tesoro?_ ” he asks, eyes searching Peter’s body. 

“ _My stomach_ ” he whimpers. “What’s wrong with it? What happened to me?” 

“I’ll call you a nurse okay?” Tony lays his hand on top of Peter’s head and doesn’t move it away. “You’ve been stabbed and thrown and tossed. Your leg is broken, and your arm is completely shattered, it’s a miracle they found a way to save it.” Tony’s eyes become hard. “He hurt you real bad, Pete. You won’t recover from this so easily.” Peter hears him say it, hears the words register. Feels so broken because of it that he wants to die.

Tony never removes his hand and Peter is somehow grateful for that, for the touch. It’s grounding, a reminder that he’s still alive. 

Suddenly it strikes Peter. He’s in a hospital, beaten, broken, and Tony is right beside him, trying to make it better. To be honest he has never been so happy his mentor is next to him. He can’t help the tears that roll over his cheeks. 

“Hey, hey. It’s alright, kiddie. No need for those waterworks.” Tony smiles sadly and moves his thumb over his cheek to wipe the tears away. 

“What happened to Green Goblin.” Peter whimpers, “Did you catch him?” 

Tony sighs, folds his hands in his lap. “No—uh—no, he got away,” the man makes it a point to not look directly at Peter and instead looks at the pudding cups right next to him. 

A strange kind of panic fills him. The Green Goblin is still out there, what if he comes back to finish it? Finish him? 

“Where’s May?” he croaks out then, wanting to see her, wanting her to protect him, like she always does. 

Tony looks down, his hand trailing down to Peter’s right hand and squeezes his fingers. “She’ll be here soon, she’s getting coffee in the cafeteria.” 

“I want to see her.” Peter whispers. “She must be so angry at me.” 

“Hah.” Tony huffs, “she’s not angry with you but with me.” 

“Sounds like her.” Peter tries a weak laugh but lets it fall when Tony gives him a concerned look. He tries another approach. “How long did I sleep?” 

Tony looks at his feet. He isn’t wearing any shoes, Peter notices. “You’ve been in and out of sleep for two days. Every time you woke up, you were screaming.” Tony tells him, his eyes glossing over. “God, you sounded so scared. It was heartbreaking seeing you like this.” His mentor offers him a sad smile. 

Peter grimaces back and hopes that it looks at least a little bit like a smile, Mr. Stark's face falls, so he failed. He sighs, his breath ghosting over his chapped and painful lips. He aches for some water. “Can you get me some water?” He swallows hard, his saliva uncooperative. 

“Of course,” Tony lets go of his fingers and disappears to the bathroom. He comes back twenty seconds later with a filled water bottle, it’s handed over to him and Peter’s teeth clatter against the opened cap as he tries to take a gulp. 

“Nice and slow, champ, nice and slow,” Tony encourages him. “I called the nurse. She’s on her way.” 

“Good.” Peter says and gives the water bottle back, his hand trembling violently. Tony takes it from him, screws the cap back on and slumps in his seat, his eyes never leaving Peter. It becomes a little uneasy after a few seconds, so he asks, “what?” 

Tony breathes loudly through his nose, his eyes harden. “You look like crap, kiddo.” He then grabs his phone, opens the camera and hands it to Peter. 

His breath hitches when he sees himself. It doesn’t look like him. Peter is supposed to look happy, rosy cheeks, dimples from laughing. He doesn’t see that. Instead he sees a swollen, bruised face, bloodshot eyes, a cut under his left eye, a cut that runs over his eyebrow and a large portion of his forehead, a split lip and dried blood under his scarred nose. 

Peter heaves a sigh, voice foreign as he speaks, “this is horrible.” He bites his hurt lip. “How am I gonna face my classmates again? What am I gonna tell what happened?” Tears sting his eyes, but he blinks and he blinks until they go away.

“That you’ve been in a car accident.” Tony says casually, almost too casually. He must’ve thought of everything already. “A driver wasn’t paying attention and hit you.” 

“Oh,” Peter says, but his voice is nothing more than a whimper as he starts crying again. He wants May, why is she gone for so long, where is she? A bit firmer he asks again. “Where is May?” 

“Just getting coffee, buddy. Nothing major.” Tony answers him calmly, a reassuring hand pats his. 

“I-it hur—hurts so bad.” Peter sobs. Pain tears through his head like a hammer, eventually beating somewhere in the back of his skull. 

“I know it hurts buddy. The nurse will be here quickly and she’ll give you something against the pain, okay?” Tony says, his voice a low rumble, thick with emotion, and he swears the man might cry in front of him. 

The nurse comes in, checks his bandages and vitals, then gives him something for the pain. She leaves with the promise to come back with some food. Good. He’s starving. 

“Get some rest, bud. Get some sleep.” Tony tells him and leans forward to rake his hand through Peter’s hair. 

The boy nods. He’s tired. 

God, he’s so tired.


End file.
